


Fear

by Yaomi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-01-24
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2017-10-30 01:31:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/326272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yaomi/pseuds/Yaomi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the greatest fear we have is the fear of falling. This fear can limit us, make us believe that the risks aren't worth the end result. Percy needs to learn that sometimes the greatest thing one can do is close their eyes and let themselves fall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prolouge

When Percy was eight he took Charlie’s broom out for a joyride. It was the first day of summer and Charlie and Bill were downstairs with their parents, being big boys now and going to Hogwarts, and look at how they were growing so tall. His dad had been proud enough of Charlie for making the Quidditch team that he had bought him a broom. Fred and George thought it was the coolest thing and Charlie had spent the afternoon lifting them as high as the roof of their house while the rest of the family watched from below.

Percy had spent all winter running after the twins, fixing their owies, keeping them out of trouble, cleaning their messes, and entertaining them. Yet when Charlie came home with his new broom, Percy was no longer the cool big brother. Charlie was the big brother. Bill was the big brother. Percy apparently was a stand-in when they weren’t there.

He had watched Fred and George shriek and scream and laugh as Charlie did lazy loops in the backyard. Percy didn’t get to go high. He stood off to the side with Molly as she yelled at Charlie to be careful. But he wondered what it was like to fly into the sky. To feel the wind whip through his hair and to be able to go anywhere he wanted. The sky was filled with the breathtaking promise of freedom.

He didn’t really mean for what happen to have happened. He didn’t even mean to go outside of the house at all. He had just wanted to hover in the room for a moment just to get a taste of what it was like so that he could realize that it really wasn’t all that great (except it had to be great because it was what Charlie did and even Percy looked up to him). He wasn’t expecting the broom to shoot forward and out the window -- to be fair he didn’t know the proper way of handling a broom. But then he was outside and the wind really was that great and the sky opened up before him, the stars inviting in their brightness. He laughed as he went higher and higher. Maybe, just maybe, he could go high enough to capture one of the stars and bring it back to show Fred and George that he could be just as cool as Charlie.

His shriek of joy echoed over the field and he lifted his arms up as though they were wings. But then something happened. The wind was too strong, he wasn’t hanging onto the broom in the proper way, his legs weren’t where they were supposed to be. And then he fell.

Inside Molly Weasley had no idea that anything was amiss. The little ones were asleep. The twins were exhausted from their day so there were no worries about them sneaking out of bed for at least this night. Bill was complaining about Professor Snape, with Charlie adding his own running commentary (was that laughter she just heard?) on what he thought about the-

“Charlie, language,” Molly snapped as she got up to inspect the noise. She was sure Fred and George would have slept through the night after today. He gave her a sheepish grin in response and nodded. She walked over to the stairs and peered up them.

If she hadn’t moved, Charlie would have never seen the clock that was situated behind her head. He would never have seen as Percy’s dial moved from “Away” to “In Danger”. As it was, he saw it and froze for a moment before bolting to the backdoor, yelling out Percy’s name, and got outside just in time to see a little body disappear into the grass.

After painful bone reconstructions at the hospital and bruises bigger than the size of his entire hand, Molly swore that she would never let him out of her sight again. After seeing Charlie apologizing and crying and refusing to leave Percy’s side for the duration of his stay at the hospital, Percy swore that he would never do anything so reckless. Besides it had been embarrassing. And Charlie’s broom was gone.

Percy learned at a young age that freedom had more problems than was worth it.

So with this conviction of course he would be sitting right next to a broom on the train. There was no one with it. It was just a broom. And Percy was eyeing it like it was going to do something awful to him. So when the owner of the said offending item entered the car to plop in the seat right next to it and proceed to check it over like Percy did with the twins whenever they were young and constantly getting into dangerous, where-they-weren’t-supposed-to-be places, Percy started eyeing him like he was going to do something awful to him.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise with the way Percy was staring at the cooing idiot (didn’t he know how dangerous those things were?) that the boy would notice this. But Percy still jerked and tried to hold very, very still as brown eyes met his. The boy after a moment grinned at him and held out his hand. “Hey, mate,” he said.

The hand came towards him. The hand that had been touching that awful thing came towards him. Percy could feel his shoulders tense even more as he tried to meld with the seat behind him. Just like he hadn’t meant to go flying out a window into the swamp when he was eight, he hadn’t meant to say what he did. But after a snarled “That’s not my name.” came from his lips, he was up and out the door. Bill never mentioned the sudden appearance of his little brother at his side on the train ride to Hogwarts, nor the weirded glances a sandy-haired, rather talkative kid kept giving the bundle who almost refused to be separated from him once off the train. He didn’t mention either the terrified look that overcame Percy when the boy (announced as Oliver Wood) was sorted into Gryffindor right after him. But he did start eyeing the boy suspiciously, and knocked Charlie’s arm at the dinner table to point out the stiff posture of their brother as he stared at Oliver sitting across from him at the table gobbling down his food.

After dinner and a brief explanation of the rules (from Bill as he was the Head Boy) and Bill and Charlie’s constant persistence to have one or the other near him at all times, and multiple reassurances that he would be alright sleeping in a new strange place (they seemed oddly highly concerned), Percy finally managed to make it to his room. There were only two beds, and Percy realized with dread that Oliver had been the only other boy sorted into Gryffindor in his year. No one would be able to hear him scream. He was going to go flying out a window again. Never mind, he might just jump and get it over with now. But, wait- where was?

Oliver came into the room to see Percy peering under his bed. Oliver thought his roommate was insane. Percy thought his roommate was a reckless fool. And this pretty much summed up their relationship through the next four years. It wouldn’t be until the fifth year that something changed. And this is where our story starts.


	2. The Incident of Year 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The delightful Weasley clan, Oliver wood, the staff and faculty of Hogwarts and Hogwarts itself are not mine.
> 
> *The chapter this has replaced will be seen again. I have decided to add in the lost years because I love Bill and I only get one year with him. But Charlie is wonderful as well. And then Percy. Percy Percy.

On a certain afternoon, four Gryffindors found themselves in the office of the Deputy Headmistress. And she did not look, by any definition of the term, happy. Oliver didn't think it was fair that he was there and he rather thought his elusive roommate was going to expire on the spot. But it was his fault, or at least a series of weird situations that Oliver kept finding himself in centered around Percy that led up to them sitting in the two chairs across from their very stern looking Professor.

“Why are four of my students in my office not even a week into term?”

Oliver looked over so that all three brothers, the younger sitting in the chair next to him and the two older standing close to the door behind Percy's chair, were in his line of vision. He wasn't going to be the one to try and answer that. The one thing he _was_ certain of was that he had absolutely no idea what was going on.

* * *

 

**Four days ago**

Bill was tired. Not the mind weary, red flagged, train wrecked emotional exhaustion, but just a simple tired with a lower case _t_ and an appreciation of quiet dark hallways between Professor McGonagall's office and the Gryffindor Tower.

A murmured “Radiator” granted him access to the Tower (a muggle word he had learned from his dad that would sound like nonsense to a majority of the students here). His steps were quiet, soft, blending into the atmosphere of the environment he enshrouded himself in.

A brief few steps took him into the comforting common room below the student rooms, deserted and dark. His home away from home. His dorm room was his, yes, but really it was just the place he laid his head. This room though reminded him of home, at times noisy and filled to the corners (usually after a Quidditch match) and at other times in the little pockets of people. There were the trouble-makers (the twins), the crazily obsessed (Charlie, or, er. His dad), the comforters and smotherers (his mom), the socially inclined and boyishly foolish (Ron), and then there were the – Percy?

Lost in thoughts of family, he had at first thought that the image of his younger brother tucked away in the far corner of the room was a dream. Percy _had_ been on his mind a lot today, but to be fair an older brother should worry after his younger. Percy tended to distance himself from people and had seemed a little overwhelmed earlier.

Upon approach and no change in the figment obliviously asleep on what appeared to be parchment paper forced Bill to concede that for some whatever reason his little brother had somehow missed his bed on the way to sleep. Bill would have missed him entirely had the boys' stairs not been near to where Percy had barricaded himself and had he not had the practice of always keeping an eye out for that red hair prescribed to all Weasleys that helped in keeping the twins from sneaking out and getting into trouble.

And so it was that he stifled a yawn as he reached out to gently shake Percy awake (growing up in the Weasly household had vaccinated [another dad word] all his siblings to being woken through noise short of their mom's screeching).

“Mugwhable,” Percy mumbled and groaned as he turned his face up and fought to open his eyes.

“Percy,” Bill said softly but firmly, using what Charlie called The Elder Voice and that he had found effective back when he had been a prefect. “Percy,” he shook a little harder. “What are you doing? Go to bed.”

Percy finally managed to open his eyes just enough to pass off a disgruntled glare up at Bill. “I'm studying.” And then he attempted to bury his head, literally, back into what Bill could now see were carefully written notes.

Bill gave a pause for a few precious seconds, a little uncertain how to proceed. Direct tended to be best, but Percy could be a little sensitive at times, especially when someone pointed out he was doing something unusual. But he _was_ pretty much asleep and _probably_ wouldn't think on Bill's words enough to beat himself up over. Okay then.

“Perce,” he said, carefully dragging Percy up into a sitting position. “What are you studying this late? You haven't even gone to class yet.”

Percy's hand, along with his head, flopped in the air in what Bill assumed had to be a wave of some sort. “Studying,” he mumbled again.

“Sleeping,” Bill corrected. He sidled right up against Percy, who gave some sort of noise not natural to the human vocal tracts as he found himself unable to prevent Bill from gathering up his book (“Transfiguration?” Bill muttered.), parchment, and writing materials. Bill cradled them in one arm and dragged Percy fully out of the chair.

“C'mon,” he said. “Bedtime.”

“I'm-”

“Studying. I know.” He pushed Percy in front of him and nearly had to manhandle him up the stairs. “You can study again tomorrow. This is your room, right?”

Percy made no reach for the door or for his things. He stared at the door for a minute and then looked back the way they had come. Bill moved into his line of sight and met his eyes, holding out his things. He could just see the wheels turning in Percy's head as he decided which demon he wanted to face: the room beyond or the first and eldest of Molly Weasley's Brood.

“Goodnight, Percy,” Bill said, accompanying The Elder Voice with The Look. Percy ducked his head, grabbed his things, and creeped (at least that's what it looked like to Bill) into his room with a grumbled “Goodnight.”

Bill leaned his head back against the wall as he crossed his arms and sighed. “I just want to sleep,” he muttered. Maybe he would be impressed with Percy's studiousness in the morning. Probably not. He was tired, and the weight of exhaustion finally crashed down upon his mind with a quietly thought “what the hell?”

He had to give Percy credit though because he thought it must have been at least ten minutes when he saw the doorknob turn and the door begin to inch open slowly. “Goodnight, Percy,” he said firmly. The door quickly shut and Bill pushed himself off the wall. Finally, he could go to bed.

And so it was with some exasperation and a whole lot of grogginess that Bill trudged down the stairs a few hours later with the Gryffindor Prefect for a start of term meeting when the Prefect stopped him with “Hey, isn't that your brother?”

And sure enough, there Percy was, dead to the world in the corner of the Gryffindor common room. Again.

* * *

 

**Two days ago**

Percy peered around the corner and clutched his book and writing things closer to him as he snuck his way out of the hallway and quickly down the stairs. He was grateful he didn't have to wait as long tonight. Last night it had taken the stairs forever to re-assort themselves back into the path he needed to get to his destination. He didn't know any other way and he had almost been caught by Filch's cat yesterday.

But he swiftly made his way to the library without incident and slowly slowly opened the door and slipped inside. He ducked his way through the tables and chairs, the stack of books, and finally to the nook at the back of the library where he furtively glanced around before laying out his things. This part was important. It was too dark to read or write, but he could make it look like he had fallen asleep and been left accidentally in the library when it closed for the night.

This managed, he sighed and buried his head in his arms and quickly fell asleep.

He heard the cat first and shot up to a grating “ _What_ are you doing here?” and a gaunt, stark face with sunken eyes and a hand gripping his wrist and yanking him up.

He screamed. His arm shot out and swept his things off the table and at his attacker as he bolted for the door. He had just made it to the door when it opened and he bounced off the professor suddenly in the doorway.

“What is going on here,” Professor Snape hissed as he righted himself from where he had fallen against the door frame. Percy was frantically trying to pick himself up while trying to keep breathing and unable to stop panicking. Filch caught up to them and Percy stayed on the ground, scooting away from the two men.

“This boy attacked me,” Filch roared.

“I didn't mean to,” Percy cried. “I was asleep!”

“He's trespassing,” Filch added, triumphantly.

“I fell asleep,” Percy tried.

Professor Snape moved back to the door. “I'll take him from here, Filch.” Percy thought he was going to be sick.

And so it was that Bill was woken from his slumber to stand at the entrance to the Gryffindor Tower, staring mystified at the odd assortment before him. Nothing good could come from a mixture of Professor Snape, his younger brother, and Filch at three a.m. in the morning. Merlin, he hoped he was still dreaming.

He gave Percy an incredulous stare. “Percy? Uh, I'm sorry, Professor. What happened?”

Professor Snape nodded his head to Bill and Percy fled to Bill's side, who unconsciously moved in front of him to stand between Percy and Professor Snape. “He was found in the library. Breaking curfew. Ten points from Gryffindor and detention in the dungeons tomorrow.”

Bill nodded. “Yes, Professor. C'mon, Percy.” He turned to lead Percy into the Gryffindor Tower.

“Excuse me, Professor Snape, but the boy attacked me,” Filch piped up.

Bill turned back around. “You did what?” he asked, pulling Percy closer to him. “What happened?”

Professor Snape stared down Filch who shifted nervously on his feet. He turned back to Bill. “No detention. Just the ten points. I'd better not catch him after curfew again.” He swept back down the hallway, Filch glaring dagger at Percy. Bill quickly gathered Percy up the stairs and closed the Tower door firmly.

“Percy?” Bill asked, gripping Percy's shoulder.

Percy shrugged him off. “I don't want to talk about it,” he muttered and then fled up the stairs and to his room before Bill could think to catch him.

* * *

 

**One day ago**

“Have you noticed something weird about Percy?”

“Have you ever not noticed something weird about him?”

Thwack. “Charlie.”

Charlie moved away from Bill. “Hey, he's my brother too, but he can be a little strange sometimes.” He looked back up at the sky, studying the other Quidditch players of the Gryffindor team. “I need to get back to practice. Our first match is Slytherin and we're not going to lose to them.”

“Just- keep an eye on him, okay?” Bill asked.

Charlie glanced over at him. “I always am. It's got something to do with his roommate.”

Bill sighed. “I had hoped not.”

* * *

 

**Ten minutes ago**

Well, Charlie couldn't help but think, the boy sure was a chatty one. He had run into Oliver, maybe a little intentionally on Charlie's part, in the hallway and the boy had started spewing off Quidditch questions and statistics and theories and strategies. Had Charlie had a clearer head, he surely would have joined in and quizzed Oliver into within an inch of his life about the sport before claiming him for next year.

But when Charlie opened his mouth to respond to a question, what came out instead was “So what have you done to my brother?”

Oliver froze. “What?”

“My brother,” Charlie repeated. “Your roommate. Your roommate is my brother. What have you done to him?”

“I haven't-”

“If I find out you have.”

It was at that point, with Oliver staring wide eyed at Charlie and Charlie standing imposingly before him, that Bill came around the corner. Bill paused, taking in the scene, and then his shoulders slumped and he sighed (a habit he was quickly acquiring) as he made his way over to them. He looked awful, like he hadn't slept for a moon.

“Bill,” Charlie said.

“Charlie,” Bill said, aggravatingly running his hand through his hair. “What are you doing?”

“This prat's been harassing Percy.”

“I haven't,” Oliver ground out.

Bill rubbed at his head. “You're his roommate, right? Oliver?”

“Eyes on the prize, Bill.”

“Charlie,” Bill growled in a voice that would've made their mother proud. “ _What are you doing?_ ”

“He's been harassing Percy.”

“No-”

“Merlin, Charlie,” Bill burst out, and they both shut up. “You can't bully an eleven year old _boy_. Come to me if you think something's going on.”

“Oh, come down from Head Boy for a minute Bill. This-”

“Just- Stop Charlie.” Bill held up his hand, but Charlie barreled on in a spiraling motion downward that Bill knew was going to take them all straight to hell.

“Percy hasn't slept in his room once. Isn't that suspicious to you?”

A figure appeared at the end of the hallway. “Professor McGonagall!” Oliver cried out, bolting for the woman.

Bill glared at Charlie. “See what you've done?”

“Come off it,” Charlie glared back.

“In. My office. Now,” Professor McGonagall said, striding towards them quickly. The two brothers glared at each other as Oliver hid behind his savior.

* * *

 

**Present time**

Professor McGonagall studied the four boys across from her, considering. “Fifty points from Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley. You will apologize to Mr. Wood and report to me on Saturday and Sunday for detention.” He looked like he was about to say something, but Bill's hand on his arm combined with the look from Professor McGonagall made Charlie shut his mouth. “Now,” she turned to Percy. “Has Mr. Wood been bullying you?”

Percy was pressed back as far into his chair as he could go, like he wanted to meld into it and disappear. He shook his head.

“Has anyone?” she asked a little more gently. He shook his head again. “Then why have you not slept in your room?”

“I- he-” The rest of the color bleached out of Percy. His face scrunched up as he fought not to cry. He shook his head again and looked down at his lap, fingers clenched together so tightly they were white. And then, so quietly that the occupants in the room all leaned a little closer to hear, “There's a broom.”

Professor McGonagall sat back suddenly in her chair, hands pressed flatly against the table as she stared at them all. “A what?” Charlie looked stricken, looking like he wanted to move forward and at the same time flee from the room. “What is in the room?”

Bill took this cue to step forward and rest one hand on the desk. “Professor, I'm sorry for the problems we have caused. Please, though, can we have a moment. I need to talk to my brothers.”

She gave him a long look, taking in the pleading eyes and resolute tone, the way he pushed a little closer to Percy until he was leaning on the chair and then back to Charlie's downcast eyes. Shamed, she thought and motioned to Oliver. “Mr. Wood, please join me in the hallway. You can have this room.” She led Oliver out.

It wasn't long after that the door opened again and the three boys trudged out. Percy looked to have had a bit of a cry and Charlie's arm was firmly around his shoulders. “Thank you, Professor,” Bill said. “Oliver, we're sorry for what's happened. I must inform you, however, that Hogwarts restricts first years from having a broom. I will need to confiscate it and you can reclaim it at the end of the year.”

Confirmation given (a little grudgingly on Oliver's end) and things appearing to come to a close, McGonagall asked, “Has everything been resolved then?”

“Yes, Professor,” Bill said. Oliver nodded quickly as she turned to him.

“You are dismissed. I will see you, Mr. Weasley, after breakfast this weekend.” They all turned to go. “Bill, if you please.” She motioned back to her office.

He gave the rest of them a forlorn look, and with a hopeless twist to his step, disappeared back into the office. She swept in behind him and Charlie winced and pulled Percy quickly away.

Oliver noticed, hours later and close to curfew, that Percy had not moved from his bed. His back was to Oliver and he had refused to acknowledge him, but he was there. Oliver had to assume that meant things were better and that he would not be accosted in the hallway again. But it was awkward between them and Percy neatly managed to completely ignore his roommate for the rest of their first year at Hogwarts.

 


	3. Year 2: Training Oliver

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The delightful Weasley clan, Oliver wood, the staff and faculty of Hogwarts and Hogwarts itself are not mine.

Oliver's second year at Hogwarts can be defined by four things that rather suddenly made their way into his life.

* * *

 

**1\. The book**

It started with a book. It was sitting innocently on his bedside table and thus was the first thing he saw when he woke up. He couldn't remember leaving it there and it didn't look like any book that _he_ knew (certainly the spines on his school books weren't so creased and cracked that he couldn't read the title). It didn't really matter though where he had picked it up from or left it at or any such thing because he didn't want to read right now. His head hurt something fierce.

He thought for a moment about turning over, but it seemed too much of a hassle for the soreness in his body, and so he was left staring at the book and thinking through all the things it could possibly be. And so it was through the haze in his mind that he decided that he might as well open up the front cover and see what the thing was.

It took him a minute of speculated effort before he realized that his arm wasn't going anywhere. Another minute and he figured out that that wasn't his bedside table. Around the same time as this he also realized that this wasn't his bed.

He groaned as he let his head drop back onto the pillow. Where was he?

“Mr. Wood,” came a cheerful voice off to his left somewhere. “How are you feeling?”

He had a rather fantastic fail of trying to get a look at his greeter, but his efforts did bring the feet scurrying closer and he was met with the sight of Madame Pomfrey standing over him. The hospital wing. What was he doing in the hospital wing? “What-” he began before attempting to bury his head back into the pillow as well as he could.

“Careful now. Nasty head bump there.” Her arms fitted themselves underneath him for support as she helped him into a carefully propped sitting position. “Let's check you out.” She went through a series of little tests, things like following her finger with his eyes, before helping him take a drink of water.

“What happened?” he rasped out.

“You were hit with a bludger,” came that cheerful voice. “Try another drink.”

Oh, Merlin. He had been done in by a bludger? It was the first match of the season! He didn't even remember going to the game or getting ready for it or what he would've eaten for breakfast that morning. He was never going to live this down. He was going to be known as Bludger Boy for the next six years. He tried to right himself and received a tut for his struggles.

“Careful,” she admonished. “You hit the ground hard. Sleep some more and I'll send a note to your professor. Mr. Weasely has visited every day. He'll be happy to know you've regained consciousness.”

“How,” he tried again, “long?”

“A week,” she said cheerfully, fluffing his pillow as she helped him to lay back down (gave him no choice, but he couldn't say he really fought that hard to stay upright). “Get some rest. You'll be out of here soon enough.” Patient attended to, she left once she was assured that he would call for her if he needed anything.

The last thing he saw before sleep claimed him again was the book on his bedside table. He still didn't know what it was.

* * *

 

**2\. The tea cup**

And so Oliver was happily encased back in his own bed when he woke up and found yet another thing unaccounted for on his bedside table. His real bedside table. It was a little tea cup. It even had its own tea cozy and the steam rose up in an invitation he was a little hesitant to take. It was sitting next to the worn book he had inadvertently found himself stuck with (and maybe read a little of because what else could he do when all his actions were limited to what he could do in the infirmary).

He had seen his roommate briefly when Charlie had helped him back to his own room. Percy had been studying something at his desk and hadn't said anything more than a hello to his brother who had frowned at him. He had fallen asleep shortly after, although Charlie had warned him that it had been hell keeping his teammates away so that he could recover and to expect a full retinue as escort to breakfast the next day.

He blinked his eyes open several times and after a few minutes felt himself more capable of getting up. His movements brought the attention of Percy, who was sitting at his desk almost like he had never left it. Percy whirled around in his chair and stared balefully at him, making no move to speak or get up.

“What?” he grumbled as he finally managed to sit up on his own.

Percy frowned and fidgeted a little. “I trust you are okay?”

Oliver glared at him. His roommate was not the first person he wanted to deal with upon waking up with a massive headache. “Fine,” he said shortly and moved to attempt a stand next.

That got Percy up and over to his side. “You shouldn't be up yet. Professor McGonagall has excused you from classes for another week and your orders are to rest,” he stressed. He stopped just short from touching Oliver.

“I'm not going to spend another week in bed,” Oliver growled out, head pounding more intensely. “If you're not going to help me up, then go away.”

Percy's eyes narrowed and he ambled back to his desk, sending little furtive glances over at Oliver as he did so. “You fell off your broom at the match,” he said matter-of-fact, sitting back down and taking up his baleful stare again.

“I was hit by a bludger,” Oliver informed him as he brought his feet to the ground.

“And then you fell off your broom,” Percy helped him along.

Oliver could feel his fingers clench hard into his bedsheets as he fought to reign in his temper. He hadn't even known he had a temper until after he had met Percy. But the boy was a pain in the ass on the worst of days and outright rude on the best, and today was looking to be the worst day yet and not something he needed while recovering.

A knock on the door saved him and he called out quickly for the unknown to come in before he did something stupid, like try to punch that expression off his roommate's face.

“Hey,” Trevor, one of the team's chasers, said cheerfully as he poked his head in. He stopped at the door though, the tense atmosphere of the room like a barrier he could not cross. “Uh, breakfast?” he asked Oliver.

“Help me up,” Oliver ground out, glaring at Percy's back, who had swiveled around in his chair again to busily move his parchment around.

“Uh, yeah, okay,” Trevor said and entered. Oliver managed to ignore Percy for the rest of the day, the task made easier by the fact that Percy himself did not make another attempt at conversation.

* * *

 

**3\. The notes**

Oliver woke up his second day back from his trip to the hospital wing with yet another tea cup sitting on his bedside table beside the book he could have sworn he had fallen asleep reading. It was actually pretty good, though not what he was used to reading on the rare occasion he looked into something that was not Quidditch related.

But it looked quite cozy sitting next to the tea and Oliver thought to hell with it, tea sounded nice right about then. It wasn't until after he had finished the tea and the next chapter, dressed for the day, and sat on his bed waiting for the escort to breakfast that he noticed the rather daunting stack of papers on his desk. Merlin, was that his homework?

He groaned and stood, making his way to the desk to sift through it all. He paused, fingers tracing the neatly lined words that made up a list of what to expect below. Was that Percy's handwriting? It had to be. No one else he knew of wrote in perfect little lines and tiny squibbles and dotted i's.

He rifled through the pages underneath the list, and sure enough the list was a table of contents for the near novel length mass that was now haphazardly stacked. Transfiguration was on top with Percy's carefully written notes underneath, followed by charms and so on and so forth. Oliver was somewhat impressed despite himself. His books were lined up on his desk in the order that his homework was in.

Had Percy been bored or something?

The door opened and Oliver looked up as Percy slunk to his desk, head resolutely turned away from him. He opened his mouth and closed it again, and then tried again. “I, um, uh, thank you?”

“You're welcome,” Percy replied, sounding as if he had tasted something bad. And then he pulled out a book and promptly hid behind it.

* * *

 

**4\. The roommate**

“I could help you catch up,” Percy informed him succinctly as he strolled in two days after Oliver had been allowed to attend classes again.

“What was that?” Oliver asked, turning in his chair from where he was stressing over Percy's notes. How could the professors go through this much stuff in two weeks?

Percy paused and then barreled forward courageously again. “I could help you study. You need to keep your grades up,” he offered again.

Oliver was silent for a long minute while Percy balanced his weight precariously as he shifted from foot to foot. A blush slowly crept its way down from Percy's cheeks and into his neck and he averted his gaze from Oliver's perusal.

“I'm trying to help,” Percy finally ground out. Oliver blinked in shock.

“I- uh, that would,” he paused. “That would be great,” he finally offered in submission.

That settled, Oliver was soon overrun with explanations and even more detailed notes and more help than he ever wanted. Within weeks though he was more than caught up to his classes, and was doing so well that Professor McGonagall had pulled him off to the side to give him a well done, which had made Percy puff up with pride when he heard. Oliver could've sworn Percy was happier than he was over Oliver's new grades.

But within another week, the two roommates were at odds yet again.

“Those things are hazards waiting to happen,” Percy yelled, throwing his pen down onto the pages of his notes. “You're just going to bust your head open again.”

“You don't quit flying just because you fall once,” Oliver retorted, crossing his arms in a direct portrayal of Percy's temper tantrum on the other side of the room. “I've got the go ahead from Madame Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall and, might I add, _your brother_.”

“Charlie's taken one too many falls to the head to know what's best for him,” Percy returned back.

“Your brother is one of the best fliers I've ever seen.”

“Of course he is, and have you seen his exam scores from last year?” Percy huffed. Oliver hadn't realized until this moment that the phrase turning your nose up at something was to be taken literally.

“There's more to life than just studying.”

“Said like someone who has no thought to the future,” Percy responded.

“You are so,” Oliver tried. “Pompous,” he finally got out.

“Excuse me,” Percy roared, whirling around in his chair and bursting out of it, so red he looked like he might break a blood vessel or three.

Oliver just grabbed his shoes and stormed out, pushing past Percy and into the hallway, slamming the door behind him. He took several deep breaths and then finally felt steady enough to make his way down into the common room.

A few hours later, after flying around the Quidditch pitch under the watchful eye of Charlie (and it wasn't Charlie's fault at all that that red hair reminded him every time he saw it of why he was so pissed off), eating dinner (which Percy never showed up to), and a conversation with Charlie in which he complained a lot about his roommate (which Charlie just laughed at with a “He's just worried.”), Oliver finally found himself standing outside the door to his shared room with the greatest prat Hogwarts had ever seen.

He felt almost like an intruder as he slowly opened the door and peered inside. It was dark, but he could see Percy's back, tense under the light from the hallway, and knew he wasn't asleep yet. He straightened up and walked inside, leaving his shoes by the door.

It wasn't until after he had gotten ready for bed and laid down that he decided to broach the unapproachable boy. “I'll be careful,” he said to the darkness, remembering Charlie's words from earlier. Percy made no reply. “I'm still struggling a little in potions,” he offered. He heard the twitch of the sheets from across the room as Percy turned a little in his direction.

“And charms,” Percy finally responded.

Oliver laughed a little in relief. “And charms.”

“Take another bludger to the head like that and you'll be stupid,” Percy said.

Oliver gave a real laugh this time. “Well, I have the best tutor in Hogwarts for that,” he said grinning. Percy didn't respond to that, but he could hear the warmth in his voice as he bid Oliver goodnight.

And so it was Oliver's second year that only one thing really, accompanied by several smaller things (like a penchant for tea in the morning and good exam scores) made its way into Oliver's life.


	4. Year 3: The Inevitable Descent of Percy Weasley

The delightful Weasley clan, Oliver wood, the staff and faculty of Hogwarts and Hogwarts itself are not mine.

 

Fear

Year Three: The Inevitable Descent of Percy Weasley

 

In Percy's third year, two problems presented themselves. Not to say they were unexpected. Percy had spent the entire summer following Bill's graduation nearly sick with dread. The rest of his family didn't seem to suffer from the upcoming catastrophe in the making, so Percy wisely kept his concerns to himself and tried to make the best of things.

Now his version of the best of things looked remarkably like someone going through the five stages of grief.

The first stage was denial. No, Bill had not really graduated. Everything was going to be fine. He would be the shining star of the Weasely clan with his flawless grades and sound advice. Life had never been better, if one ignored the fact that he kept ducking around corners to avoid his family (a difficult feat to accomplish in their house) and spending copious amounts of time outside after Bill had tried to corner him in his room and had subsequently found every hiding place Percy had neatly rooted out for his own within doors.

The second stage was anger. And, oh, there was a lot of it. But Molly Weasley had shut this stage down with a quick (and loud) threat of Percy's continued existence.

The third stage was bargaining. He could transfer to an American school (No). He could take his OWLs and NEWTs early (also No). He could just not go. Didn't they need help around the house? Molly shut this stage down (even louder and with no small amount of exasperation) after the fourth attempt. And Bill, having been tipped off to Percy's location by the tirade of their mother, had managed to corner Percy _again_.

The fourth stage was depression. This stage lasted for the rest of the summer, despite his mom, Bill, Charlie (who finally realized that Percy's actions were not part of his normal routine- all his trips outside probably tipped him off), and his father's interference. In despair and not knowing what else to do, they threw Ginny at him in the hope that he would snap out of it when presented with his little sister. She kept him busy, but the depression valiantly persisted.

The final stage, acceptance, didn't come until he was sitting on the train next to his roommate Oliver (though he still held out a failing hope that was quickly dashed when the school came into view).

And so, unable to avoid the inevitable, Percy watched (with the morbid fascination of a muggle witnessing a train wreck) as Problem #1, very closely followed by Problem #2, were sorted into Gryffindor.

And despite the joy at finding Oliver waiting for him that first night back in their dorm room where they spent a good hour (or Oliver spent a good hour while Percy organized both of their school books on their respective desks) talking, Percy knew that nothing was ever going to be the same again.

**The Book**

Percy came back from his second week of class to find his favorite book sitting on his bedside table. He could feel a grin bubbling up as he ran his fingers over the cover, familiar in a way like coming home was familiar, like a warm hug from his mother was familiar, like getting lost in a conversation with Bill was familiar. He knew every ridge in the lettering, every folded page and each line of the broken spine.

He had lent it out to Oliver last year so that he wouldn't be bored while he was in the Hospital Wing, but Oliver was still making his way through it by the end of the year and Percy had encouraged him to take it home over the summer. It was his favorite, out of everything that he had read, and he couldn't contain his smile anymore as he thought of talking with Oliver about it.

Oliver should be getting out of practice right about now, and unable to contain his glee, he nearly skipped out of the room with the book held tightly to his chest to track him down. Nothing could make Percy forget about himself, about the cares and concerns of the world, better than a good book and good conversation about said book.

But as he stepped out into the hallway just outside of Gryffindor Tower, he was confronted with two surprises. One, Quidditch practice had let out early; and two, Oliver was conversing with The Twins in the hall. As though with his appearance he had cast a silencing charm, the conversation died as first George, and then Fred, spotted him.

“Percy,” Fred said slowly, as what Percy swore was a smirk crossed over his face.

Oliver glanced at Fred and then turned back to his roommate. “Percy?” he asked.

Percy schooled his features to nonchalance (or what he assumed was nonchalance) and dropped his arms a little so that he was cradling the book and not clutching it like a lunatic. “Fred. George,” he greeted. “Oliver,” he said with a little more warmth in his voice. “How did you like the book?”

“And that's our cue to leave,” Fred said as George made a little snort behind him. “We'll see you at breakfast, Oliver.”

Oliver nodded to the two as they went into Gryffindor Tower. He stared after them for a moment before turning back to the matter at hand. “I-uh, I didn't finish it.”

“Oh,” Percy hummed. “You can hold onto it then.”

Oliver shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable. “It was interesting, but- uh, not really my thing.”

“Oh.” Percy was silent, staring forward and Oliver shifted on his feet.

“Percy, are you okay?” Oliver asked, lifting his hand to reach for Percy's shoulder.

“I'm fine,” Percy said, and before Oliver could blink he had disappeared back into Gryffindor Tower. Oliver was a little afraid to go back inside.

**Interlude 1**

_Have you talked to Percy?_

**Breakfast**

Come morning, Percy was still in a delicate mood. He didn't know how to feel between catching Oliver with The Twins and Oliver's rejection. He could see his book from the corner of his eye in a place of distinction on his desk (and Oliver was subtly invited to pick it back up anytime he wanted) as he studied for his first class of the day.

Behind him he could hear Oliver shift and then groan as he got up. “Good morning,” he mumbled.

“Hmm,” Percy responded as he turned another page, quill never leaving the parchment he was writing on. He tapped his finger over a line, trying to relate what he was reading to the lesson that was planned in Professor Flitwick's class. He paused, and then frowned. “You're up early,” he said, turning around in his chair so he could see as Oliver pulled himself out of bed with effort and glared balefully at his wardrobe. Oliver began pulling out the clothes he always wore to practice.

“Charlie wants to move our practice to the mornings. Flint,” with a snarl, “was hanging around yesterday. Probably sent by their captain. Cheating bastards.”

Percy could feel his lip curl a little. Obscenity was not made for mornings. “Breakfast is in an hour.”

Oliver waved his hand in the air as he pulled his other arm through the sleeve. “We'll get something after practice. Speaking of,” he yawned. “Our first match is Friday. You should come see it. Your brothers will be there.”

“Thank you, but no,” Percy said tensely, twirling back around and burying himself back into his notes.

“Is there something going on between-”

“You're going to be late,” he cut him off, quill scratching away again.

Oliver sighed and pulled on his shoes as he headed for the door. “I'll see you in class.”

**Interlude 2**

_Bill,_

_Did you send poor Errol out for one sentence? Not even a hello. You could at least address your letter. How's your job? How's your life? Mom about flipped when you moved out, you know. She at least writes me once a month. I'll be lucky if she lets me leave the house once I graduate after the stunt you pulled. Aren't you supposed to be the responsible one? Ginny cried, I'll have you know. She's been following Ron around._

_And no. Percy's been holed up in his room or the library, as always. We had to change our entire schedule around because of Slytherin spies. Practice in the early morning, class all day. I'm lucky if I get a nap after class. Did you have to go through all of this to graduate?_

_Fred and George are doing great, by the way. Really interested in Quidditch. They're going to be great beaters. I can just see it. I won't be here next year, but I'll be suggesting to the next captain to put them on. Just imagine it._

_~ Charlie_

**Library Hours**

Percy wasn't waiting. Okay, maybe he was. No, actually he wasn't. He was studying. Well, maybe not that. If he was being honest with himself, he'd admit that maybe, just a little, he was waiting. But he had a valid reason to be waiting because while it had never been truly agreed on, he had been meeting Oliver every Thursday around forty minutes ago since last year to study.

And so he was at their table (they had a table now, the kind that nobody took on Thursdays for fear of Percy's glares and awkward standing until they left moments) going through his history notes (Oliver was still not up to par in Professor Binns' class – said it was too boring). So he was at their table sans Oliver and pointedly ignoring the clock (forty-four minutes late now).

**Interlude 3**

_Charlie,_

_My job is fine. My life is fine. Mom's been sending Errol to me every week since I left. Hold onto him for awhile. He needs a break._

_Skip a nap and go find Percy. I can't get him to respond to any of the letters I've sent. Don't make me come down there. You won't like it._

_Bill_

**The Roommate**

“Why are you being so rude to them?”

“You know nothing about it!”

Percy threw himself into bed with all the pomp and circumstance of a disgruntled teenager. How dare Oliver take their side. They had been rude first and Oliver knew Percy (or should know him) well enough now to know that Percy wasn't irrational and that he did want what was best for them. Even if that meant they weren't exactly what was best for themselves. And seriously, Oliver was biased and completely ignored the dangers of Quidditch.

Oliver stomped around for a minute and then left. Percy laid in bed and fumed. He didn't know for how long, but he could hear the other students as they filtered back in from dinner. All he was trying to do was help people. Oliver's grades were slipping (he just knew it), The Twins were wandering down a road they knew nothing about, and he didn't want to bother Bill as he settled into his new place and new job, but Charlie wouldn't leave him alone either. For Merlin's sake, he had to study on the bench outside Hagrid's hut just to get away from him.

He heard the door open and Oliver's steps as he walked over to the bed. And Percy got angry. Out of all the people there, Oliver should have been on his side. Oliver should have been supporting him. Oliver should have known better and he didn't and it hurt.

“Percy? Hey, Percy. I know you're awake.” Oliver's downfall was when he pulled the curtains open in one swift move. He barely had time to blink before Percy cast a Silencio spell on him as he glared at him through the depths of the enclosed bed.

Oliver's mouth opened, eyes wide. Closed. Opened again and a furious expression came over his face. Percy squawked as he was forcefully pulled out of his bed. Oliver punched him, catching his jaw and causing Percy to fall off the other side of the bed. Percy shrieked again and then came at him, hands stretched out like claws. It wasn't long before the noise they made had three seventh years bursting through the door, one of them Charlie who froze in the doorway (which was probably for the best. Initial reaction would have caused big brother Charlie to do something to his teammate which would probably have gotten him expelled).

**The Conclusion**

_Bill, I think maybe you should come down._

 


End file.
